The Hikari Paradox

Skinner's Conditioning II

Konstantin conformed and descended into Alaya’s World, the heavy basset in his arms. His new body had its perks, as if he had, in his previous body, attempted to carry such an old, heavy model, his hands would have most surely failed, but his new frame was far more apt in terms of physical prowess. Perhaps that was the conditioning of the enlightened. Bright minds, capable of theorizing everything, of seeing everything. Fact which, in normal psychological parameters, naturally induced the need to train that aspect, while ignoring time wasting physical maintenance.

“Down the rabbit hole we go… I wish I were a rabbit,” the dog mumbled absently, as they entered Alaya’s. It was an obscure place, smelling of lilac. A bar sat at the other end of the room, the bartender showered in magenta light. Small tables were disposed at random, square lamps casting the same nuance on dark, reflective wood. Save for the pinkish oases of light, the room was shrouded in darkness, a perfect physical translation of Konstantin’s vision on the theory of darkness.

“Pick the third table on the left,” the dog said. “And put me down. It’s ridiculous enough as it is.”

Staring at the bartender, a young German in his early twenties, Konstantin leaned down and released the dog. The boy shot him a surprised glance, shook his head, then resumed reading his book.

“She will soon come, sit.”

A few minutes went by, and Konstantin troubled himself with the menu. It was hard to decide, because there was no alcohol-free beverage there, but he eventually settled for CyberChique, just because the way it sounded, and not due to its ingredients.

“What may I bring you?” the bartender said.

He had been so silent in his stride that Konstantin’s heart skipped a beat.

“A Cyberchique for me,” he said, breathing deeply, “and as for my friend… what do you want?”

“Dry vodka,” the dog said.

“Dry vodka,” Konstantin repeated, smiling at the boy.

The bartender’s hand froze mid-air, and he seemed unable to touch the screen. His face was surprised, but who wouldn’t have been when hearing a dog ordering dry vodka?

“If that’s what you… want, so be it,” he said, finally resting his finger on the tablet.

The table clanked open as a small container ascended. A thin robotic arm placed their drinks on the table, one next to the other and retreated like a serpent back in its dark lair.

“This looks rather toxic,” Konstantin said, eyeing the blue glowing beverage sitting on ice, a smoky green substance dancing in chaotic patterns inside.

The dog said nothing.

“Here you go,” Konstantin said, passing the vodka. “Cheers to us.”

He took a sip and almost choked on the alcohol’s potency. He hadn’t drunk alcohol in more than fifteen years, and he was now slowly remembering why.

“You’re quite weak when it comes to this poison,” the dog said, the glass in front of him empty.

“When did… how? I heard nothing!” Konstantin said. “When did you drink it?”

“A true basset never reveals his secrets. I must at least act mysterious, if the looks don’t help me.”

Konstantin bit his lip in frustration, and resumed his drink. Half an hour passed, then another, then another hour... He was at his fourth CyberChique, feeling quite woozy, his head light and vision blurred. As time passed, he and his canine companion debated wild subjects, the which he couldn’t remember as the liqueur worked its way through his mind. The basset was quite resilient and after six dry vodkas he seemed unaffected, but after all, he was mechanical, a robot. Probably the alcohol had already been filtered by its systems, the beverage stored in some container, awaiting deployment on the nearest hydrant.

“You said she will come,” Konstantin muttered, his tongue stumbling in German. “Who should come, because I think I’ll fall asleep if I… if I… Bartender! Bring me another one of these. It unlocks things within, things I thought I had forgotten. Ha, isn’t it funny?” he asked, turning sideways to look at the bartender. “How we, humans, tend to forget things, how our brain hides memories in order to maintain our sanity? Do you know, young man, what would happen if we remembered everything? And… I mean, everything, everything! We would lose our sanity, that’s what would happen. But after all, what is sanity if not just a blind shepherd herding us all into compliance? If I, for instance, would travel back in time one hundred years ago, I would be the insane one, I’m telling you! How funny the human mind is… how it hides our past… how it, it just… makes us believe whatever we want to believe is real. But then how does one interpret reality, if it’s nothing but the construct of previous conditioning?”

“I don’t think he understand what you’re talking about,” the dog said.

“What? You think that… he… No problem,” Konstantin said, waving a finger, “I’ll explain! Listen here, boy, whatever you believe to be true, is false! That is the way of humans, there is no truth, no objective truth, except for science. If I told you, for the entirety of your existence, that the color of the sky was pink, then you would have told everybody that the sky is pink. For them, you would be mad, or at least sick in your eyes, I’m telling you! We are all conditioned by this monstrosity, aren’t we?” he asked, turning to the dog.

“What monstrosity woof?”

“Time… space… the mind,” Konstantin said, sinking in his armchair. “Yesterday I was myself, a Russian inventor, a scientist, an enlightened. And today I am Franz, the drone man… I’m dreaming, right? It’s just a vivid dream.”

“It can be, but after all, what is reality for humans if not a vivid dream that your kind experiences through very unique, individualized perceptions? It’s not a dream, enlightened. You are truly here, in the body of another man.”

“I know, I know… I’ve already dreamed, and I’ve never dreamed within a dream, so this must be real. But… I don’t understand reality. I mean, I understand its mechanics, probably better than anybody else, but… it’s just that… the mechanics. I can’t seem to understand… their reality,” he whispered, waving around. “Where is she? I want to leave, I want to sleep.”

“Why?” the dog asked, as the table opened up again.

“To forget… something. I don’t know what, this stupid brain works in slow motion… But I feel I want to forget something, so, where is she?”

“Right there,” the dog said, pointing to a woman walking towards them. She was beautiful, one of the most beautiful women Konstantin had ever seen. It wasn’t due to her physique, as that was rather common. Her skin was smoothly stretched around her muscles, a shade darker than latte coffee, and her face was pleasant, but not extraordinary. It was her eyes, amber, mystic, wild. Something in her gaze seemed to hypnotize him, to calm his senses while also stirring his inner primal beast.

“You’re quite drunk, sir,” she said, looming above him, her sinewy silhouette darkened by the neon above. “I’d ask you to finish these drinks and leave.”

“Him, drunk?” the dog said. “No, he’s perfectly ok, just look at him. His eyes are still open, so that’s a plus, right?”

The woman completely ignored it and bowed down to reach Konstantin’s face. Her dark trench coat gave her the air of an outlaw, but he didn’t mind, as it fit her as the Orion fits on night’s sky.

“Are you able to understand what I’m saying?” she asked, resting her hand on his shoulder.

A cold wave gripped him from everywhere, as he felt his body dying. Heart rate slowed down and the world whirled in a jumbled spiral of colors and shapes. He tried to say something, but his mouth was numb, his hands were numb… The woman’s voice encircled him in overlapping distant echoes; whispers.

“Remember, remember, remember,” she said a million times, as his world went dark once again.